Appreciating Art

Today the family and I went to the Art Gallery of Hamilton because, being a dreary cold day, I was in the mood for some culture. If you spend enough time looking at art you begin to feel saturated by it, as though each painting, sculpture and installation imprints itself on you, exhausting your ability to perceive.  This is the feeling I anticipate every time I go to a gallery.  My family anticipates boredom.

Though I was the only one particularly enthusiastic about visiting the gallery, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves once we arrived.  Although Jadzia was afraid of most of the art.  No, really. She hid her head in my shoulder as we browsed through bold colorful paintings, black and white photographs, and African masks.  Adam and I tried to tell her that these were just pictures that people had made and weren't likely to come alive, but I don't think she quite grasps the difference between reality and fantasy.  She did, however, enjoy the quilts.  I was never that into textiles, but seeing my daughter delightedly point at the patchwork of flowers, animals, and colours made the exhibit worthwhile for me.

William seemed inspired, and only a couple of times claimed to be "hungry" (four-year-old code for "bored").  His favourite piece (everyone's favourite actually) was Kim Adams' Bruegel-Bosch Bus, an installation involving an old red VW van covered with various toys, trains, cars, models, etc.  (It's on permanent display, so you can go have a gander any time you want). It reminded me of one of those I Spy books.  The more I looked at it, the more details emerged.  The kids inched closer and closer as they examined the various scenes, and Adam became paranoid that they were going to touch the artwork, especially since a security guard with dreadlocks had been following us around the gallery since we arrived.

By the time we left, we had spent an hour and an a half in the building, seen pretty much everything, and no one had fainted from fright, whined to go home, or destroyed a priceless artifact.  I declare the outing a success!

Muppet Dream (Scenes unlikely to appear in the next movie)

I don't remember my dreams a lot but when I do I like to write them down and share them.  Indulge me:

I was in the Muppet movie.  The dream began with a typical Muppet scenario, a man behind a desk told Kermit and his friends that he couldn't loan them any money and made a point of telling them that they now had ZERO funds. Disappointed, the Muppets and I went outside into the rain.  Standing in a field of flowers, I bent over to hug Kermit.  With tears in my eyes I told him that I loved him and that it would be okay.  "It's okay right now," he said.

What followed was a scene that I am pretty sure will not be in the upcoming Muppet movie.  The Muppets spotted a playground on the other side of the field.  Though it was rainy and dark, they eagerly ran towards it.  There were people hiding in the shadows, wearing bunny and chipmunk costumes. They attacked the Muppets.  I was on the ground, under the play structure, defending Kermit against a young woman with a sharp kitchen knife. She sliced up my skin pretty bad, and made a diagonal gash across the palm of my hand before I was able to grab the knife.  I threw it and the blade stuck into the trunk of a tree.

After that I was able to overpower her easily.  It turned out the woman was a troubled youth, who the Muppets took pity on.  They allowed her to stay on the couch in their apartment, which was crowded and disorganized as only a Muppets' residence can be.

Happy Thanksgiving!

In honour of Thanksgiving I will be writing the rest of this post in Turkey (not to be confused with Turkish). Here's what we did this weekend:

Gobble Saturday gobble gobble gobble gobble wedding gobble gobble gobble friend gobble gobble. Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble Polish Hall, gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble.  Gobble gobble pierogies gobble gobble gobble gobble fun gobble gobble gobble gobble.

Gobble Sunday gobble gobble gobble hot outside. Gobble gobble gobble gobble park gobble gobble gobble sweltering gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble swimming gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble beach gobble.

Today gobble gobble raspberry picking gobble gobble parents gobble gobble gobble gobble farm.  Gobble gobble gobble gobble few berries gobble gobble, gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble small container.  Gobble gobble turkey dinner gobble gobble gobble berries gobble gobble gobble cheesecake.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!  

Celebrating minor achievements

• Walked to the vet with a four-and-a-half-year old, a very slow two-and-a-half-year old, and a dog who can't seem to stop pulling on his leash and jumping up on strangers.
• Took the children to the library at children's request. Left early due to younger offspring's lack of listening skills.
• Served four peanut butter and jam sandwiches, two slices of leftover pizza, two apple sauces, two oranges, eight cups of milk and approximately 800 pieces of cheese.  (Not including breakfast) Percentage of that food that was consumed by me: .01%
• Emptied the dishwasher.
• Put breakfast and snack dishes into the dishwasher.
• Put away one basket full of laundry.
• Changed the batteries in my husband's mouse to facilitate my son's computer addiction.
• Mediated several disputes between the children and the dog.
• Dealt with four freak-outs. One computer related, one to do with leaving the library early, and the last two because I didn't serve enough cheese.
• Researched publishers to send my book to.
• Wrote half a paragraph.

I won!

My first time entering the #HumpDayChallenge, a flash fiction contest over at Tracy's Tavern and I won!  The prize: bragging rights and a cute picture to display on my blog.


The challenge: use these words in a 100-word story: labor, corrupt, horseradish, aces, and turf.


So of course this is where my mind went:

The queen spreads her six legs in a starburst before me. Her vulva smells of horseradish. Despite her cruel and corrupt regime, I pity her vulnerability. For the first time, I don’t envy the mothers of our race. She contracts her muscles to turf the first egg from her womb. I catch it with my outstretched mandibles, letting the rest smash against the stone ground. As her labor nears its end, I thrust my pincer through her quivering body, bathing myself in her yellowish blood. She’ll never know why her aces turned against her.


Labour without the "u" looks wrong to me.  Also, I thought the use of "aces" was a little forced, and I have no idea why alien bugs would know what horseradish smells like, but that doesn't matter.  Winning is the important thing. 


Voting is important too.  So if you live in Ontario, and you haven't already, please vote today.  There's still time!

How to write (and raise two small children)

Today is insecure writer’s support group day, so I thought I’d write something that will (hopefully) help writers and mothers alike.  Like any mom and writer, I struggle with feelings of inadequacy.  I feel like I’m either neglecting my writing or my children or both.  Nevertheless, I have been doing this a while and I have some tips to share that might help other writers and/or mothers in my situation.  (These tips are in no particular order).

Tip # 1  Use indoor playgrounds as your office.  I watch for coupons for these places because I have neither the desire nor the funds to pay full price.  The kids have fun, get exercise, and require minimal supervision because there are no roads to run into or creepy men who came without a child. Most indoor playgrounds have WiFi, which is unfortunate for those of us who find the web a distraction.  Also when it gets busy, it gets loud.  The morning is the best time to go for low crowds.  Anyway, even writing with a little background noise is better than hearing “Mommy” every five minutes.


Tip # 2.  Let things slide.  Chores that will not get done when I’m on a good streak with my writing include (but are not limited to): laundry, dishes, general tidying, cooking dinner, grocery shopping, walking the dog, washing my hair, washing my children.  If you’re worried about visitors, know that no one will disown you if you have a messy house (at least, no one important).  Children, of course, do need love and attention (and food) but they will whine when they are not getting enough, so there’s no need to worry.

Tip # 3.  TV is not evil.  If you’ve ever sat down and watched television for preschoolers you know that it is educational to the point of being vomit-inducing.  Through schmarmy plots about love and friendship they are learning about science, reading, math, geography, history.  You name it.  And they do retain the information.  If you don’t believe me, have a conversation with my four-year-old. When I don’t have the money or energy for indoor play places, the tube helps me get my quota.

Tip #4. Remember that it is good for your children to see you doing things for yourself.  I do not want my kids (particularly my daughter) to grow up thinking that they have to put everyone else before themselves.  I want them to follow their dreams, and do what makes them passionate.  The best way to do this is to lead by example.

Tip # 5.  Have a writing quota.  And make it fairly small.  My quota is 500 words.  If I kill myself I can make it.  A lot of writers  have quotas of 1000 or even 2000.  Well La Tee Da.  Those writers don’t have small children to take care of.

Tip # 6. Make a “Winner List” and a “Super Star List”.  This one I borrowed from Margie Lawson. A winner list is for things you must get done today (make it small and achievable) and the super star list is for things you would like to get done if you have time.  I don’t always keep up with this, but when I do it really helps.

Tip #7.  Write a sentence at a time.  Including thinking and typing, it takes me about two hours to get my quota.  I don’t always have two hours at a stretch, so sometimes I take ten minutes and write a sentence (sometimes even half a sentence) whenever I get the chance. Sometimes, I find I have more time than I thought I did and I get an hour when I thought I only had ten minutes. (More often it works the other way around).

Tip #8.  Don’t beat yourself up.  This is the hardest thing of all.  I read over the first three tips and thought “I sound like the worst mother in the world.”   I feel guilty when my laptop sits unopened for three days, and even guiltier when I get my writing done while the offspring enjoy their third viewing of Ratatouille. I write for myself, so I shouldn’t feel guilty about not doing it.  I need to do things for myself, so I shouldn’t feel guilty about doing it either. (Neither should you).

Peruse the links below for more insecure writers writing about their struggles.

Interview with me!

During our writing retreat Elaine Cougler interviewed me for her blog.  That interview is up now!  Of course, being a written word person, I feel like a bit of a dork in front of the camera. So, now that I've had some time to think about the questions I'll post some different answers here.

First, here's Elaine's video (for those of us too lazy to click a link):

My answers after thinking:

1. Tell me something wild about yourself.
Could this answer have made me seem more nerdy?  I think not!  Here's something wild: I had two kids. I know this is typical of a lot of women, but that doesn't make it less bizarre.  I opened up my girlie parts and out came a human head.  Twice!

2. What is your background and how much of it includes writing?
While I absolutely credit my mother as a big influence in my writing, I do have a writing background of my own. I currently freelance for Today's Parent Toronto, something I've done for some time. I have a recently published short story in a YA anthology called Cleavage. I have a minor in professional writing only because no major program was available, I also have a certificate in magazine publishing which included several writing courses. I've excelled in pretty much every writing course I've ever taken. Putting words together just feels natural to me.

3. You write all the time, tell us about that.
I need to be a little less honest sometimes.  Do my legions of future fans need to know that I majorly procrastinate with my writing?  Yes, I write all the time.  I am actually super-duper diligent, and yes, passionate! Of course I'm a real writer.  I am super mom!

4. What does writing do for you?
It gives me a sense of accomplishment that playing computer games never could.  Something I hope will make my children proud.  An example for my children, so that they will pursue their dreams.

5. How do you deal with sensitive topics in your writing?
I think my answer here is pretty good.  As to Elaine's question about "Native" vs "Indian", of course writing historical you use the historically appropriate term regardless of how offensive it is today.  One thing I should mention is that I do deal with topics outside my comfort zone in my writing including, but not limited to: sex, swearing, violence against women, violence against children, drugs, torture, etc.  Whatever the story calls for. The key is to not make it gratuitous, and at the same time to avoid sugar-coating something because your kids/mother might one day read it.

6. Do your friends understand why you write? Do they even know?
No it's a big secret. Nobody knows that I write.  I hide in a hovel and lock my words in a vault at the end of the day.  Of course my friends know! My friend Columbia has babysat my children so that I can get my words done. My answer in the video I'm afraid did not do justice to my truly amazing friends who absolutely do understand me, and understand the struggle to be creative while raising children.

7. What is the best thing you see yourself accomplishing with your writing?
My book is published and I have legions of adoring fans.  Pretty much what I said on the video.

8. What is the worst thing?
I am terrified whenever I hear about how many hundreds of times writers have to submit places before getting published. I don't know that I have the ambition or the confidence to go through that.

9.  What my books are about.
Goodness me, I could not have made my books sound more boring.  Really my book is good. Funny and action packed, with romance and suspense and everything.  Book 1 (which absolutely is ready for publication for whoever wants it) is about a woman with amnesia, the man who loves her, and a wardroid sex slave uprising.  Book 2 (in progress): is about a three-gendered matriarchal society and an alien family with a human hybrid child.  Does that make them sound a little more interesting?

Anyway, thank you Elaine for taking the time to interview a budding writer like myself.  This will surely help me gain those legions of fans we talked about.

Celebrating Minor Accomplishments

Dressed the children (including socks).

Managed to have a nap today.

Helped out at my sister's Stag and Doe without feeling like the nerdy sister (even though I so am).

Won a raffle prize (Toys for Jadzia. We're hiding them until Christmas/birthday).

Got several achievements on the Sims facebook game.

Paid exact change for jar of mayonaise.

Finished all the levels of Factory Balls 4 without a walkthrough.

Made dinner yesterday for the family in less than 30 minutes.

Participated in a family outting to the pet store.  (Bought a leash, food, and a squeaky foot for Worf).

Received unsolicited I love yous from offspring.

An imago is an idealized concept of a loved one…or a winged insect

My dog chases them all the time. Isn’t it strange that I can write a whole novel and yet there are some words that I have never used in a sentence? In fact, some words are so foreign to my way of speaking that they would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb if I ever used them. I yawn, but never oscitate.  So this week’s campaign challenge has left me feeling less than poetic. I could write about a miasma of steam rising up to obscure my reflection in the mirror, but I haven’t had time today to take a shower.  Could there be a lacuna in my vocabulary? I don’t even know if I’m using that word correctly.  I’m reminded of a scene in the movie “Clueless” when a guy tells the late great Britney Murphy “Be seeing you” and she answers “I hope not sporadically,” having just learned the word. The fact that I’m quoting “Clueless” should give you an idea of my mindset.  The challenge is to write a 200-word blog post using several assigned words.  One of them is synchronicity.  I bet you can guess what the others are. Vote here for #101 (That’s me).

Memories last forever (if you put them on youtube).



I was at Chudleigh's Apple Orchard today and I got to thinking of all the times we've been there before. I went down the slide with William and remembered going down the slide with him as a toddler. Then he was in my lap; this time we were racing. I recall an infant Jadzia sucking on an apple, not enough teeth yet to take a bite. Though she has teeth now, the apples are still as big as her head and she carried one around for an hour without finishing it.

We can really only afford to go to Chudleigh's once a year. From admission to lunch to apples, our wallets are gouged at every turn. So the kids change dramatically every visit. The place stays oddly the same; our family keeps evolving.

I took my trip down memory lane to youtube and found this:

That's William at the age Jadzia is now, eating an apple pie.  Yes, I know I keep misunderstanding what he's saying in the video.  Could that be a reason he can't be bothered telling me about school now? Anyway we didn't make an apple pie this time. Honey crisp apples are way too good to waste on such an endeavor.

In other new, I am getting a cold from being around allergens too long. Is it really necessary to bed the entire playground in hay?  Really?

Wardroids Trailer (that I made) and an Awesome Book (that I didn't write)

On the way home from the writing retreat I was thinking out loud to my friend Siobhan about the templates my husband uses to make ridiculous trailers of our family vacations. "I wonder if you could use one to make a book trailer," said I.

So I got home and started messing around with iMovie.  I chose the template best suited to my science-fiction-comedic-action-romance which I usually call "Wardroids" even though several people have said that it's a terrible title (somehow anything else I think of is slightly more terrible).

The problem: footage.  This might surprise some of you, but it's very difficult to find footage of wardroid sex slaves preparing for rebellion on any of the free stock footage sites.  Instead I found time lapse clips of sunsets and a cool slow motion fire ball. 

Here's about where my husband took over.  My sunset and fireball trailer, while dramatic, really didn't illustrate my book very well. Luckily my husband has a subscription to a stock photo site.  I searched and searched and found several pics of people and androids which could vaguely pass as my characters.  Adam turned these into video clips using his magic computer powers and we spent the evening plugging them into my template. I still kept my sunset and fireball in there because it's good to have at least some actual video.

The end result is, I think, pretty decent. 

I bet you all want to read that book now!  Unfortunately it's not published.  You should call up your connections in the science fiction industry and ask them to get in contact with me.  Show them the trailer, and be sure to tell them that the book is way better than the trailer (less stock footage).

One book that is published however (this is a segue, pretty nice huh?) is my friend Siobhan Minty's self-published masterpiece "A Gay in the Life of Melinda Finch". Available on Amazon here and Smashwords here. If you enjoy my sense of humour (and if you're reading this blog I assume you do), you're going to enjoy this.  It's about a woman named Melinda who has to pretend to be a lesbian to write a gay advice column. Also there's a love triangle, which becomes a love trapezoid.  And there's a twist ending. Here's the review some random Amazon user gave it:

Melinda Finch is zany and loveable. Her story is hilarious and surprisingly poignant. A great read from beginning to end. If you don't think that love conquers all, this book will make you a believer. 

Okay that was me, but I meant every word.  And the book is only 99 cents.  Seriously! (Feel free to mention Siobhan's book when you're negotiating my book deal with your publisher friends).

William's First Day of JK

Today was William's first official day of Junior Kindergarten, not including the open house we attended in the summer and the meet the teacher thing we did last week.  Today was a half day, to ease him into the routine I guess, not that he needs that much easing.  I'm the one who needs to get used to school, to become accustomed watching him walk through those blue double doors and then walking away.

 I was so excited to have some time minus one kid now I'm not sure how I feel about it.  I ambitiously tried to fill those few hours he was gone.  I took Jadzia to the store to buy shoes and nail polish. When we go home it was already ten. I had to pick up William at 11:15.  I tried to prepare tonight's dinner (pierogi lasagna) in advance but I barely got the filling done before we had to race out the door.  An explosive poop delayed our progress even more and I found myself rushing to the school (dragging my dog and daughter along).  I didn't want to be the parent who is late on the very first day.

 Luckily we got there with plenty of time (my watch said 11:15, but we still waited a couple minutes). William seemed in good spirits, but when asked about his day he said "I don't remember." I managed to drag out some tidbits. He played with cars, including one Hot Wheels car.  He played with scooters at recess. He didn't eat his whole snack because "he was already full."

Tomorrow, and forever more, William will go to school all the way to 3:15. Maybe I'll get some writing done. Maybe Jadzia will get the mother daughter time she's been missing. Maybe we'll be so busy that we won't notice the hole that he leaves when he's gone.

Pics From the Retreat (Mostly from the Hike)

Willing to risk anything for their craft, Siobhan Minty and Elaine Cougler joyfully point out that our trail may be swarming with deadly insects.

I managed to capture the whole gang on film. From left to right: Sherry Isaac, Elaine Cougler, Siobhan Minty, Carole-Ann Vance, Sharon Clare. 

Taking a picture of myself always results in a double chin, but Siobhan looks gorgeous.

Sherry, me, Elaine and Sharon pose next to (and on top of) a time machine.

Sherry attempts to take a picture of the sparkly ground (the sparkles didn't show up too well in photos).

Sharon takes a group photo while I sneak a pic of her.

Elaine and Sharon admire Sherry's picture of the sparkly ground.

A friend we met on the journey.

The house we stayed in was much nicer than this.

The view from Halcyon Haven at sunset.

Back at home, Jadzia enjoys painting the book I got from Sharon.

More Writing Retreat

Today is the last day of our retreat.  I had a fabulous time yesterday. We began the day with two workshops, one from Sharon on characterization and one from Sherry on rhetorical devices. It was like being back at school (I love school) except all of the kids were the smart kids and the social interactions weren't nearly as awkward.

After a delicious lunch of sweet potato soup and chicken wraps with goat cheese and cranberry, we set off on a hike by an old mica mine. Mica flakes littered the forest floor and, catching the light, looked like stars fallen to the ground.  The weather was perfect, pleasantly warm with a pure blue sky (uncontaminated by clouds). We finished the two-kilometre trek in record time (which to me is any speed faster than a two-and-a-half year old sucking her thumb).

After the hike I convinced my friend Carole Ann to go swimming with me (Carole Ann has just finished her book. Yay!) The water was lovely, so clear that we could see the snails at the bottom and so refreshing that we almost didn't notice the weeds grabbing at our limbs.

Later we sat in muskoka chairs by the water and listened to a meditation CD.  We were supposed to connect with our past lives and maybe discover a character from that. I don't know about past lives, but sitting with my eyes closed, listening to the waves and the birds and the breeze was very relaxing.

We had yummy stew with salad and sweet potato fries for dinner (I love Sharon's cooking) and then did skits of Sherry and Carole-Ann's work.  The idea was to see how a scene worked with multiple people. By acting it out, you discover when characters aren't reacting enough, or if some people get forgotten.  Plus it was a lot of fun to try and act out the lines.

Anyway, Sharon has made another lovely breakfast so I must stop being rude and go eat with my writer friends.

Writing Retreat

Today I am blogging to you, on location from Halcyon Haven in sunny Lombardy. I'm attending a writing retreat with five of my fellow authors,three of whom I know from writer's group, and two new faces.

Yesterday my friend (and fellow writer type) Siobhan and I drove seven hours through traffic.  We ate at a restaurant frequented by truckers which was attached to a convenience store. There were quite a few flies but the food was decent.  Plus, my meal came with ice cream (no, I did not order from the kids menu).  Anyway we arrived last, in the dark, and got slightly lost by the end because my GPS, a typical male, only pretended to know where it was going.

This place is quite nice, right on the lake.  Looking out the window, it feels as though the whole house is floating on the water.  My friend Sharon (also a writer-type, just assume everyone I mention is a writer) organized this whole thing and has all kinds of workshops planned.  She also has a delicious menu and made us a fritata this morning with lots of delicious vegetables ( I love when my eggs have many colours in them). Of course I'm more excited about the woman-food than anything else.

Anyway, in the interest of social networking, here are links to everyone's websites:

Carole Ann: TK

Elaine: elainecougler.wordpress.com

Siobhan: agayinthelifeofmelindafinch.blogspot.com

Sharon: sharonclare.com

Sherry: sherryisaac.com

me: jennifer.filipowicz.ca

Meet the Teacher

Today was William's first meeting with his new teacher, Mrs. Leonard.  Though I attended with him, I was quickly shuffled into the corner to fill out forms while William was assessed on his drawing skills, his knowledge of letters and numbers, and his coloured-bear sorting ability.  I think he did well and Mrs. L agreed, but William was disappointed that he only got to "do boring stuff".  Next week, he was promised, there will be playing and there will be other kids.  Man, I wish I was going to junior kindergarten, it sounds like a blast.

After we got home, I tried to discuss the visit with my son.  I couldn't observe everything he and the teacher were doing and was curious. 
"I just don't remember!" William exclaimed.
"But it was only twenty minutes ago," said I.
Shades of years to come.

Just when I was thinking of being productive

My power went off at 4 today.  Being a computer/tv family with at least one dark-phobic child, we have no idea what to do with ourselves without electricity.  With the playroom transformed into an ominous cavern, William abandonned his lego.  I found him a flashlight so he could use our windowless bathroom.

Jadzia snatched up the half-charged ipod and demanded that it play Elmo games (she settled for Plants vs Zombies).  Soon William tried to "help" his two-and-a-half year-old sister thwart a zombie invasion, and I stepped in to referee.

"Let's go for a drive and see who else's power is out," I suggested.
The offspring begrudgingly agreed and we set off.  The outage didn't appear to extend far beyond our street.  The traffic lights Northwest of our house were dark (treat it as a four way stop, please people), but the ones Southwest of us were fully operational.

We ended up at the grocery store.  Not knowing how long the power would be out I bought things that needed neither chilling nor cooking, namely peaches, pears, raspberries, and sushi.  Also diapers.

William fiddled with the door latch as I was putting Jadzia in the carseat to go home.  The car door stubbornly refused to close. I called my husband, who luckily was on the way home from work.  He met us in the parking lot and used his man powers to fix the latch in 30 seconds (yes, I'm a strong independent woman, but my womanly powers didn't work for some reason). 

We arrived home to find the power still out.  Then, just as we were getting excited at the prospect of going out for dinner, the house hummed to life.  I made salmon with corn and fried rice.  Yum.

The First Campaign Challenge.

I assume you all have been following my blog intently and already know that I am signed up for Rachael Harrie's Writers' Platform-Building Campaign, well today Rach has presented us with our first challenge.
I have to write a 200 word story that begins with the sentence "The door swung open".  Bonus points if it ends with "The door swung shut." Extra special bonus points if the piece is 200 words exactly. Here goes:

The door swung open like a cross between a drawbridge and the cargo doors on a military plane.  Faster than Angie would have imagined, she found she didn’t have time to decide whether or not to run.  She had no doubt that the occupants of the cigar-shaped ship could already see her, standing in her pyjamas in the ankle-high grass.  As Angie waited, she looked back in the direction the ship had come.  It had knocked down the old oak tree with the tire swing before carving a black scar through her parents’ corn field, narrowly avoiding the farm house where Angie’s family had been sleeping. Looking back at the gaping mouth door of the space ship, Angie was shocked to see not a little green man with a bulbous head, but a blond girl of about three years old, her wide brown eyes framed by dark lashes.  The girl held out her arms as though waiting for a hug.  A sudden longing brought Angie to tears.  The child smiled an impish grin and Angie could no longer resist. She ran up the ramp and took the delicate creature in her arms.  “It’s okay,” Angie whispered. The door swung shut.

That's it.  Hopefully a mildly original take on the UFO-in-the-cornfield cliché.  Exactly 200 words so long as you count "ankle-high" as one word (Microsoft Word does).  I urge you to try out this fun little exercise, even though you can't win a prize unless you are signed up for the campaign.

Edit: If you like my story, be sure to go to this page and press the like button above my name (I'm number 27). Get me in the running for the people's choice awards.

Six Years

So it's my hubby and my six year anniversary, so we celebrated by going with our friends to the Butterfly Conservatory in Cambridge, a humid indoor jungle with colourful bugs flying everywhere. All the humans in the room were drenched in sweat, particularly my son who's every pore becomes a faucet at the slightest rise in temperature.

Some things I learned: meal worms taste like bland potato chips, giant snails eat sweet potatoes, and butterflies enjoy ice tea (if it's spilled on a little girl's dress).

Luckily, my favourite moment of the day was caught on video:





Ah, the joy, followed by the timid uncertainty at having a giant insect stick its proboscis into the fabric of your pretty princess dress.  Isn't it strange to think that none of these little people existed six years ago?

Anyway, to go along with the theme of highly humid activities, we had dinner at the Mongolian Grill, where you select ingredients which are then cooked in front of you on a giant metal circle (which also turns the entire restaurant into a sauna).  On retrospect, it probably wasn't the best choice for late summer dining.

Oh, and here's a picture of a butterfly that I stole from my husband who has a really expensive heavy duty camera.



Indulge me in a bit of a ramble

I signed up with this blog campaign, so I can network and meet other writers. At first I was afraid that I'd signed up too close to the deadline to be included.  Now I'm worried that my blog might not be good enough to be included.  As you've probably noticed, I haven't been blogging much of late and when I do I don't really say much of substance. I tell myself that this is because I'm tired dealing with the offspring, but really I've fallen in the trap of nihilistic self doubt. I have a little hater in my head that tells my that nobody cares what I have to say and typing anything is not worth the effort.

I feel the same way when writing my science fiction. Every time I sit down with my laptop, the little hater tells my that I'm wasting my time and no one will ever publish it. Even if my writing were as good as my friends claim it is (and let's face it, it probably isn't), brilliant writers are a dime a dozen. You need to have something more than a good idea and wicked wordsmith skills. I've been reading Daniel H. Wilson's Robopocolypse, a totally believable and positively riveting account of machines attempting, rather successfully, to annihilate the human race. Even if my robot book were as well-polished as Daniel's robot book (it's not), I would still be less likely to get published.  Dan has a PhD is robotics, and I am an unemployed Star Trek nerd with two small children. You can almost hear Dan's credentials singing sweetly in his agent's ear, while I can quite clearly picture any agent I've pitched to rolling her eyes and yawning.

This gives me the idea that I should write something to do with art history, since that is what my degree is in.  Aliens could take over the Sistene Chapel or something.  Except that even though I loved my time in University (it was like grown-up kindergarten), the art history component was a necessary evil that bored me immensely. Even aliens couldn't spice it up.

And another thing. I put myself in the Science Fiction category of this blog campaign even though this blog has never been about science fiction. I feel the sudden need to add SF content to this volume of mildly amusing annecdotes about motherhood, but I'm have nothing to say on the subject (beyond what I'm writing in my books) and I'm not sure it would fit.

In the interest of adding SF content and introducing myself to a larger blogging and writing community, this is what my unpublished and depressingly untitled books are about (one sentence each, always a fun exercise):

My first book (which is finished, in that I have typed THE END) tells the story of a redheaded mechanic named Emily who rediscovers lost memories when she gets kidnapped by wardroid sexbots and taken to a post apocolyptic Earth, while her lovesick and slightly crude Commander (who also happens to be the clone of a robotics scientist) charges off to rescue her.

My second book (which I'm writing right now) follows a trisexual alien family (two husbands, one wife) as they deal with life in a matriarchal society with rigid gender roles, and (eventually) the birth of a human hybrid child.

If anyone out there wants to give me an unbiased account of how much my book sucks e-mail me and I'll send you as many pages as you can tolerate.  If you want to suggest a title based on what little information I've given here, leave a comment below.

Blog Campaign

I'm hoping I'm not to late to join this Blogging Campaign that I just found out about, because it looks like a good way to further my writing career and connect with the larger blogosphere and such.  I thought tomorrow was the 31st but it's today.  Yipes!

"Basically, the Campaign is a way to link those of us in the writing community together with the aim of helping to build our online platforms. The Campaigners are all bloggers in a similar position, who genuinely want to pay it forward, make connections and friends within the writing community, and help build each others' online platforms while at the same time building theirs."

Click here to read more about it.

If you want to join yourself.  It will probably be too late by the time you read this, but it looks like they have it every year.  This is a quick post, but if I end up being a part of this, you'll be seeing more about this later.

EDIT: I'm hoping this exercise might also help me "Get an Ilene" as the Vlogbrothers would say. Meaning: "Find someone who is doing what you want to do better than you can do it and listen to them." Of course there's always my mother. She's awesome.

Ba Ba Blacksheep

This is for my friend Columbia, who saw Jadzia sing Ba Ba Blacksheep today and though it was so cute that I must document it.  So here we are.  Hopefully the rest of you will enjoy this also.

Algonquin Adventure

My husband and I just got back from a fabulous 5-day canoe trip in glorious Algonquin Park. Using the combined power of our awesomeness, we were able to paddle across vast lakes and carry all our stuff through bug-ridden portages. We had ambitions of doing a podcast of the adventure when we got back, but now that we've returned to civilization lazyness has officially set in.  You might still see some videos or pictures or something if we feel like it. Not until next weekend though because Tuesday to Friday we are taking the kids car camping. (Yes, we are just that crazy).

Here's an amusing trailer of our trip that my husband cut together using his fancy Mac computer:

And so I don't get all glum about no longer enjoying my vacation in the beautiful and serene Canadian wilderness, here are some things I missed about civilization:

Flush toilets

Hot showers

The internet

My laptop

Refrigerators

My induction stove

A comfy bed

A car

Washing machine and dryer

Dry shoes

Clean water on tap

Real food

Electricity



Rocket Launch 2011

We gave my brother a model rocket for his birthday back in May.  Yesterday, August 1st 2011, which happened to be a civic holiday, we all went out as a family to launch it. 

The rest of us waited in the blistering heat while the boys read over the instructions.  Everything was in its original packaging, and in hindsight it looked as if some pre-assembling would have been advisable.  At one point my Dad had to walk back home to get a screwdriver. 

As you can see, the children and dogs were very helpful during launch preparation.

 Still the rocket was ready fairly quickly.  As Craig pointed out, NASA would have taken longer than 15 minutes to set up a shuttle launch, so we were actually being very efficient.

 We launched the rocket three times (because that's how many charges we had) and I cut together a short video that captures the launch experience.

 Very exciting, though the rocket was hard to follow with the camera once it was in the air.  Also, if anyone is interested this was Worf and Mortie the Jackapoo's first meeting.  The two dogs got along wonderfully.  They were very happy to frollic together despite Mortie's small size and Worf's young age.

Worf Filipowicz

 We weren't really planning on getting a dog, although we always knew we would some day.  My daughter's love of animals prompted me to take her to the animal shelter last week just for something to do.   During our visit, we mostly just looked at cats, because the sound of ten large dogs barking in a confined hallway was too much for Jadzia's tender nerves and eardrums.  However, I did notice that they had a puppy.  Not a washed up old mutt, but a puppy.

The sign said he was a Pointer x Border Collie, but we were later told he was probably a Lab x Border Collie, or maybe something else.  They found him on the street and your guess is as good as theirs.  In fact, they found him on our street. 

We went to the shelter today just to look at him.  We played with him in the room for playing with dogs.  We took him for a walk.  He likes to play fetch.  He likes the kids. The kids like him.  He's cute. He's calm for a puppy.

Adam would want to adopt any dog he saw, ditto for the kids, so it was all up to me to be the grown-up and make the big decisions.  I asked the shelter worker if they would hold him for twenty-four hours so I could think about it.  "No."  So we took him right then and there.  It was too late anyway.  He already felt like part of the family.

I need a freezie mommy

I can't wait to be done that box of freezies.  There are less than ten left in the box, mostly white ones because until recently my son thought white meant "no flavour".  Everyday my daughter tiptoes up to me and informs me in her sweet voice that she needs a freezie.  If I refuse, which I usually do after the third, forth, or tenth freezie, then the sweet voice changes into the whining, crying, yelling, sound of  a self-entitled toddler.

William always asks for a freezie thirty seconds to a minute after Jadzia asks for one.  This is exactly enough time for me to get back into whatever I was doing before only to be interrupted again.

The freezies are small, basically sips of sugary juice frozen in narrow plastic sleeves.  This is how I rationalize giving them large quantities of sometimes food.  I tried to limit them to two freezies at a time, but I the strength of my resolve is no match for a two-year-old's tantrum. In the time it took to write the first paragraph I had served out five freezies (two to William, and three to Jadzia).  My daughter is currently throwing herself on my lap in whiny desperation, because I haven't responded fast enough to her request for another.  Ah well, the more she eats, the faster they will be gone.

Balade sans enfants



Today is my husband's birthday, so what a perfect time to tell you all about the romantic bicycle ride we took last week at Niagara-on-the-lake. The town boasts a smooth, meandering bike path along the Niagara river, under the shade of mature oaks (and other majestic trees). I couldn't keep the smile off my face, and not just because of the beautiful scenery.

We travelled from our hotel past Fort George (headquarters of the British Army during the war of 1812) where I posed suggestively on a cannon:

Imagine always having to be the responsible one;  the person to decide "yes" or "no", whether an activity is safe, what volume is acceptable, and even which jokes are appropriate.  I didn't realize that's what my life is until that weight was lifted.

It reminded me of when my husband and I were dating, when we used to hang out, just enjoying each others company. For a moment I remembered what my world was like before my adorable, yet highly dependent offspring.  I remembered why I married this man in the first place.



We have fun together.  Fun. Remember that? Without the constant threat of over-tired tantrums and demands for snacks.  We biked to Brown's Point, and I have no idea if that's an accomplisment or not.  It didn't feel like a strenuous journey.  It was perfectly easy-going.

On the way back we stopped at a store advertising fresh cherries and shared a pint.  Nobody whined about their hunger until we were forced to stop, we just got a treat for ourselves and enjoyed it together.  Best. Day. Ever.

I love you, Adam.  Happy Birthday

They Feed Us then We Feed Them

 



On Saturday I went with my family to the ostrich farm. (In this instance my family includes my four-person family, my brother's three, and my friend Columbia's three as well).  Our first order of business was to order barbecued Ostrich burgers, which most of the kids didn't like (my 15-month-old niece seem to enjoy them).  The meat was lean, not as greasy as beef burgers, and it had a distinct flavour.  Vaguely remeniscent of beef or chicken, but not the same as either.  I found them quite delightful.

Next we took a tour of the farm, with a guide named Joey who looked about 15-years-old.  He showed us the breeders, adult Ostriches that were lucky enough to have avoided the chopping block.  Then he gave us a cup full of feed and took us to see the "Teenagers", who weren't so lucky.

They plunged their heads into our chalices of corn with such vigour, that the feed spilled everywhere.  Then, when the cups were empty, they pecked violently at our feet.  Although the word "pecked" is far too dainty, as the sound was across between machine-gun fire and an angry village mob pounding on your front door.  Joey told us that the ostriches have brains as big as their eye, and that they really aren't very smart.  While I enjoyed the experience of having dinosaur-like creatures lunge their rock-hard beaks at my toes, I really didn't feel too bad about eating them.

After that we got to peak through a window at a small group of adorable leopard-spotted ostrich chicks.

Advice: if you go, bring lots of cash.  They don't take debit or credit and there are lots of exotic meats you can buy there.  Luckily we had just enough to purchase some bison for Adam's birthday dinner tomorrow.



Lobster Poutine

It's a good thing that a three course meal was included in our Christmas giftcard, because otherwise  I would have cheaped out and not ordered the $18 appetizer.  You know how a lot of places sell "lobster" dishes, adding just a tiny amount of meat so they can print "lobster" on the menu and trick you into ordering it?  Not so at Zee's Grill!  I was pleasantly surprised to find giant chunks of claw meat over top of my cheese curds and fries.  It was the best poutine I have ever tasted.  Why doesn't New York fries offer the option, I wonder?

My entree was excellent aswell.  Tender pieces of duck breast on top of a bacon-loaded pasta. Saying "bacon" on the menu wasn't a trick!  Of course I was so full by the end of it that I had to open up my second stomach to make room for dessert.

Dessert: chocolate crepes with mousse, creme brulee, and fudge.  I was so rolly polly that I almost couldn't stay awake for the play we saw afterward at the Shaw Festival Theatre.

BTW: I neglected to take a picture of my delicious meal but here's a link I found with a picture of lobster poutine. Mine was served in a bowl, not on a newspaper, but it was basically the same. 

BBTW: This review is pro bono, but I do get paid to write them occasionally.

Vacation Haiku

I'm just back from Niagara-on-the-lake, a romantic two-day one-night vacation sans enfants.  My husband and I had such a good time that I'll need multiple blog entries to fully do it justice.  Although I did manage to sum up the trip in this haiku that I wrote in the room guestbook:

Yes, I'll be devoting an entire blog post to Lobster Poutine.  But for now I'll just say that I love my children.  They make me appreciate the exquisite freedom of not having them around.  My husband is my best friend (really, not just because I'm being cheesey) and hanging out just the two of us is super duper fun.  Yes, I said super duper.  Yes, my hubby is THAT fun to hang out with.

Summer

Today I strapped my kids into my chariot and rode to the nearby dress shop to buy the dress I'll be wearing to my sister's wedding. Since they were so good, quietly playing lego in front of the fitting rooms, that I took William and Jadzia to the dollarstore to choose a toy.  After running through the aisles, rolling balls across the floor, and deliberating over several options, William chose a bow and arrow and Jadzia chose a monkey with cymbals and candy.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in the backyard.  We put on our swimsuits and ran through the sprinkler until a mudpuddle formed in the middle of the lawn.  We blew bubbles after that.  Jadzia ran after the largest ones gleefully exclaiming "Big Big Bubbles!"  William shot some with arrows. 

Since I told William he couldn't shoot his bow indoors, he wanted to stay outside long after the rest of us were tired, bored, and hungry. He attempted to climb the slide using the suction cups on his arrows, breaking one in the process.  Eventually I convinced everyone to come inside.  Okay, I dragged everyone in.

It was a productive day.

William goes to kindergarten

Yesterday we took William to the kindergarten open house.  Before we went William put on his new backpack and said "Are we going to school now?"  So after dinner my Mom came to watch Jadzia and the rest of us walked the short distance to William's school.  William was immediately greeted as he came in and given a ziploc bag with stuff in it.  We were told that we had to keep the ziploc and not lose it before September.  Our first test as school parents, I hope we don't fail it!

The kindergarten room was similar to the Early Years, lots of toys, blocks, train sets, colouring sheets, educational doo-dads, etc.  And all over the wall the room also had enough charts, posters, numbers, letters, and artwork to give me ADD.  We met the two kindergarten teachers, but because of bizarre regulations we weren't allowed to know which would actually be teaching him.


William was excited by the magnifying glasses and nature things ("Science!") but he ended up spending most of his time building a totally awesome truck out of lego.  Reading over the info for parents, I saw that William has pretty much already met all the educational goals for JK and SK, so I figure he's going to totally ace this whole school thing. Also, the rest of the kids that were there seemed much smaller, so he'll rule the playground aswell.

When I told William it was time to go, he said "Then why did we even come?" I think he wanted to play all day.  Well good, soon he'll be forced to.

Oh and this morning he asked me "Can we go to school today?" 

Jadzia draws Happy Faces

Seriously I think she's some kind of genius.

Funny Breakfast quotes

Jadzia: I like strawberries.  I like yummy waffles in my mouth.

William: Sometimes you have a dream where you fly a rocket to the moon and that is kind of a dream.
Me: Did you have a dream where you flew a rocket to the moon?
William: No.

William's Dream

William: I had a Power Ranger dream and people were taking our car.
Me: Power Rangers were taking our car?
William: No, we were Power Rangers and someone else was taking our car.
Me: What did we do?
William: It was just a dream, we didn't do anything.
Me: Oh.
William: And I saw that you were eating something.  You said it was cat food and it tasted like cheerios.
Me: I was eating cat food that tasted like cheerios?
William: Yeah, and it was cheerios.

About two minute later...

William: I like Power Rangers

Golden Arches

I just entered this contest from McDonald's:

McDonald’s® All-Access Moms, presented by CityLine and hosted by Nanny Robina, are inviting Canadian mommy bloggers* for a chance to get a first-hand look behind-the-scenes at the Golden Arches to learn the truth about McDonald’s restaurants and the food it serves. McDonald’s All-Access Moms will have the chance to ask the hard-hitting questions on every parent’s mind and delve deeper into the quality of food sourcing and preparation at McDonald’s restaurants. At the same time, these moms will be blogging candidly about their experiences and sharing their thoughts with parents across the country.

I've seen the movie Supersize me, but since I'm not a vegan and don't work for PETA, I'm not sure how "hard-hitting" I would be.  I decided to enter anyway.  I filled out the online form, copied and pasted a sample blog entry, and answered some questions about my family and our mealtime traditions.  The most difficult part was making a video explaining why I should be chosen.  How do you say anything on camera in only 30 seconds?  Here is my attempt:

And here's another video I made to explain the last one.  (Actually I recorded it because Jadzia began screaming as soon as I stopped recording her):

Wish me luck.

Super Omi Turned 80 Today

And she has no idea.

My grandmother has had alzeimer's since before my kids were born.  When my husband and I were dating, she was already starting to forget and repeat things.  She used to flirt with the security guards in her building.  She cooked for me all the time.  She made liver and bacon, homemade schnitzel and spätzle, rouladen. She always made you eat too much, never taking no for an answer.  She told everyone I was her favourite granddaughter, and bragged that I "sang like an angel", even though I only ever sang along to the radio.  She cheated at rummikube. We would laugh together, talk about music, and men, and the world. She would give me a quarter if I got a question right on jeopardy before the contestants did.  I was her smart cookie.

Omi has always loved kids, so my Mom thought that she might respond if I brought my kids in to see their great grandmother. It wasn't a party, nor even a celebration, only an attempt at giving Super Omi one last happy moment.  We stopped at Tim Horton's on the way and bought timbits for us and a yogurt for Omi.  Mom entered the combination to unlock the door and we saw her sitting in the hall.  She was sleeping in what my Mom calls her lazy-boy wheelchair. Her body looked thin and slumped, her skin pale. Her grey hair was combed straight.  Her bare feet were wrapped in white pillow-type things.  Her toenails were yellow.  She opened her eyes briefly, but didn't really look at any of us.   We wheeled her into the small courtyard and sang her happy birthday. 

We ate timbits and played catch with a football we brought with us.  At one moment, a woman walked across the courtyard, ripped a vine out of the garden and dragged it inside, leaving a trail of dirt on the floor.  We chatted with William about life and death and what Super Omi used to be like, then we left her and went to the waterfront and enjoyed the splashpad.  In the end we had a pretty nice day.